Solemates
by lilsherlockian1975
Summary: Soulmates AU... Neither Molly or Sherlock are very keen on finding their other half. But the Fates have something else in store for these two. Multi-chapter. *complete*
1. Chapter 1

_**That's not a typo folks...**_

_**Okay, couple of things... this is my first Soulmates AU... and it scared the shit out of me. I couldn't have done it without MrsMCrieff, my Beta, my Brit picker, my friend. She held my hand and told me it wasn't a crazy idea (although I do realise it's a bit out there...HA.) I love the idea of Soulmates, and MizJoely's lovely Soulmates AUs inspired this, so I blame (I mean) gift this to her. Hope you enjoy it. It's a few chapters long.**_

_**Also, everyone is a bit o/c. I took advantage of the AU aspect... This takes place before ASiP. There is no John. Sorry John lovers (I love him too!)**_

* * *

"...of all the... minor position my arse... pompous, self-riotous, egoistical..." Mike Stamford continued to mutter to himself as he made his way to the morgue. He was on his way to see the newest member of the St. Bart's pathology department, Dr. Molly Hooper. The very least he could do was warn her about this man, who was evidently on his way to the hospital. If was anything like the stuck up piece of work he had just spoke to on the phone, she was in for a hell of a day. "I don't get paid enough for this." He mumbled as he opened the door.

The petite brunette looked up from the cadaver she was working on to see her rather flustered boss rushing through the door. "Oh, hi Mike. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, well actually I just had a very frustrating conversation with a high ranking government official. I never want to do that again." He said sitting down and catching his breath.

"Is everything okay, is something going on?" She asked as she removed her gloves and started washing her hands.

"No, nothing's wrong, per se. I've been informed that we are to allow this government official's little brother unfettered access to the lab, and slightly more restrictive access to the morgue. It's the most unprofessional thing I've ever heard of in my entire career." He huffed. "I was in the process of telling him that very thing and that he could be the bloody Prime Minister for all I cared, I wasn't letting some unauthorized person into MY lab and MY morgue, when a very bored looking young woman showed up at my office door carrying enough paperwork to get this brother of his into Buckingham Palace."

Molly got him a cup of water, "Dear God Mike that was the longest sentence I've ever heard. Calm down, I've never seen you so upset. As a matter of fact, I don't think I've ever actually seen you upset before."

He looked up the kind young woman, suddenly very worried about this upcoming meeting. "I'm sorry Molly. I should have calmed myself down before coming in here. Anyway, Mr. Holmes _the senior_, said his brother can be difficult, demeaning and insensitive. And let me tell you after having just spent the last ten minutes on the phone with this Mycroft Holmes, I believe it."

Molly rung her hands, "Why are you telling me all of this Mike?"

"Oh yes, right. I completely forgot. This Holmes, is on his way to take a look at that John Doe we got in yesterday, the homeless man. Thinks it may be someone he knows."

"Alright, I'll get him ready." She said, Mike started to get up, still slightly red faced. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Don't worry about me Molly, I'll be fine. Listen, when he comes in, whatever he says- whatever he does, ignore him. His brother said engaging him only makes him worse."

Molly furrowed her brow as Mike left the lab. Molly busied herself prepping the body for viewing. She frankly wasn't in the mood for some over-privileged, arsehole to come messing about her morgue. She had only been there for five months but she already felt quite protective of the pristine white room and sterile slabs. Not to mention she didn't like seeing Mike so upset, she really liked the older man, he was a mentor to her and she respected him.

She sighed and continued her work. Of course she had been in a foul mood all day, the cause; another bad fix-up. Another attempt at finding her soulmate. The latest was Byron the barrister. _Urgh! What an idiot._ And of course noting happened when they shook hands. No even a tingle. It's not as if Molly was desperate, she was very happy with her job and her life. But her mother and her friends wouldn't shut up. _'You do actually have to try, dear.' _Her mother had said, _'I dated loads of men before your father.'_ As if finding out her mother was some sort of trollop was a comforting idea. _'My foot didn't start to tingle until our third date, but when I felt it, oh... just you wait.'_ Her mum had said with a far too telling twinkle in her eye.

It wasn't always a tingle. For some people, the sudden appearance of their soulmate's name on the bottom of their left foot was an intense burning, for others it was a light tickle. The feeling could range anywhere in between. The words usually formed within a few day of the first skin to skin contact, but it could take as long as a month, sometimes even a little longer. Her mother, ever the romantic, said it took time for the souls to weave together. Molly thought the whole thing was bollocks. She was a scientist for God's sake. Even being raised by loving parents who clearly adored each other and had instilled her with the proper beliefs, Molly still had her doubts. Nevertheless, it seemed no one was going to get off of her back until she found her elusive _other half._

She hadn't always felt this way. As a small child and teen she remembered feeling hopeful and even anxious about meeting the person who would wear her name on their foot for the rest of their life. Uni changed all of that. That's when Molly fell in love. His name was Alex, and Molly just knew from the first time she saw him that his name would appear on her foot one day. After a couple of months of surreptitious admiration, she finally got the nerve to talk to the dashing young man. He was tall, with light blond hair and beautiful brown eyes. He wore horn rimmed glasses, he was completely awkward, always seemed to be on the verge of tripping over his own feet. He was perfect.

He seemed absolutely shocked when she walked up to him and asked him to join her for coffee, but accepted nonetheless. They chatted and laughed and had a wonderful time. He was a Photography student, came from a large family, he was allergic to shellfish and hated anything citrus. He like hiking and had a deep love of silent films. She was smitten.

At the end of the date Molly placed a soft kiss on his cheek. She wanted their first contact to be a kiss, what a lovely story to tell their kids. They saw each other almost every day and Molly waited for the tingle.

Molly wasn't a prude by any stretch of the imagination. She did however believe in soulmates, and the Fates and destiny... basically everything she had been taught growing up. A month into their relationship, she and Alex had sex. It wasn't perfect, though she had no frame of reference, but it got better after the first couple of times. That first night as she lay in his arms he told her he couldn't wait for her name to appear on his foot. She just knew it was going to happen at any moment, so giving herself to him was no great sacrifice. Besides, they were in love, that's what people do.

Two weeks later Alex sat her down and explained that he had collided with a young woman outside the cafeteria, ran right into her knocking them both down. Evidently when he took her hand to help her stand up their left feet simultaneously erupted in pain.

Molly was crushed. Stupid Fates had completely strung her along, made her fall in love with the wrong person. She decided it was pointless and cruel to go about life getting ones hopes up only to have to wait to see if your bloody foot started to itch. She concentrated on her studies and left soulmates to her friends. That was until about a year ago when apparently everyone in her life decided she needed to be bullied into finding Mr. Right.

Byron the barrister was just another in a long line of failed first dates. Fates help her if her foot had started tingling after her date with him, she would've cut the damn thing off.

Molly was pulled from her thoughts by Mike coming back into the lab, looking only slightly better than before.

"Here we are Mr. Holmes, our morgue." Mike said trying to keep his cool.

"Right, let's see the body then." He finally noticed Molly, his eyes raked over her... twice. She furrowed her brow.

"Dr. Hooper's going to take care of that for you. She's..."

He interrupted Mike. "She's new, been here four no five months." He was looking at Mike now, "You like her though, taking her under you wing so to speak. Very protective of her, like a little sister. Of course, because of the sister that died. Right."

Mike realised how close he was standing to Molly at that moment and looked at her with utter shock.

The man turned his gaze back to the petite woman, "Only child, cat lover, you live alone. Single... Looking though. Yes, desperately so. Hmm, well besides that fact you seem competent enough, young for this position. Must have pushed yourself though school. Ambitious... or compensating? Favor the latter. Right, the body?" He finished removing his scarf and turned to the body on the slab still covered with a sheet.

"Stop!" Molly yelled.

He turned.

"Mr. Holmes, I believe..."

"Sherlock."

"What?"

He rolled his eyes, "My name is Sherlock, not Mr. Holmes."

"What the hell kind of name is Sherlock?"

He rolled his eyes again, "It's Old English, there are actually two possible meanings, either fair haired or short haired."

Molly's eyes flashed up to his mass of curly dark brown locks. "Of which you are neither."

"To be fair, I was born blond. May I see the body? I do have other things to do today." He said turning away again.

"No, you owe Dr. Stamford an apology."

He slowly turned around, "What on earth for?"

"For what you said about his sister. Which by the way, how could you have possibly have known?"

Sherlock closed his eyes and shook his head. "I didn't know, I deduced. Just like I deduced everything about you."

"Impossible!" She shouted.

"_Not_ impossible actually. Let's see shall we? Bad date last night? You went to dinner of course, boring. It was a set up, an accountant or no... a barrister I believe, and you hated him. You are terrified his name will show up on your foot. Don't worry, generally soulmates have _some_ attraction to each other." He had inched closer during his deduction. He crossed his arms over his puffed out chest and raised an eyebrow. "Now, tell me I'm wrong."

Molly fumed for a moment deciding whether or not to storm out of the room, finally she decided she wasn't being run out of her morgue by this pompous arse. "Fine. You're right." She spit out. "But that doesn't make you any less of..." She stopped herself. She didn't want to cause problems for Mike.

"What, can't say it? So tightly wound.." He moved closer, "People like you are so easily read; it might just be best if you shut yourself in your tiny little apartment with your ginger cat and your science fiction novels and not interact with the general public least you be taken advantage of. Though perhaps you should have let the barrister have a go at you, might have made you a bit more agreeable today."

She didn't even think twice before bringing her tiny hand across his face with all the force she could muster. They both looked shocked.

Mike, who had never seen the kind young woman raise her voice, looked as if he might faint.

Suddenly both Molly and Sherlock screamed, falling to the floor, each grasping their left foot. After the initial shock of pain, they realised what it meant.

"No!" Molly whispered.

Sherlock simply shook his head, "Of course." He said to himself.

Molly ripped her shoe and sock off her foot. "Ah ha! It says William!"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, "I dearly hope it's the shock of it all causing your stupidity. William is my first name!"

Molly sighed then started putting her sock and shoe back on.

"You're soulmates." Mike said.

Both Sherlock and Molly graced him with the same look and said, "Obviously." At the same time.

Sherlock jumped to his feet and offered Molly a hand, which she refused. She got up and turned to Mike, "Can you assist Mr. Holmes with the identification? I'm not feeling well. Do you mind if I take a half day today?"

"S-sure, of course Molly. W-whatever you need." Mike stammered.

Molly stormed out of the room.

* * *

_**Yep! It's their feet! I like feet. I went to school to be a nail tech, didn't finish because my father died (long and boring story there.) But I still give pedicures... I like feet (not in some weird way!) I like making them look good! I may be a little obsessed with Ben's though... they are huge! **_

_**Let me know what you think! More to come! Thanks for reading! **_

_**Lil**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Okay, so you all seem to like my take on Soulmates... Thank you all for the reviews, followers and favorites. I know this is a bit different so your support really means a lot to me. **_

_**In my excitement to post that first chapter I forgot my disclaimer...**_

_**I own nothing (including chapter one, sorry.) There, don't sue me!**_

* * *

Sherlock left St. Barts feeling more than a bit conflicted. _Soulmate._ This was an unexpected complication. Why unexpected? Sherlock Holmes had spent much of his adult life avoiding the possibility of meeting the supposed love of his life. He had no room in his life for such nonsense.

He took all the necessary precautions. He wore gloves whenever possible. He avoided physical contact at any and all cost. As a matter of fact, usually the only time he came into contact with another person was when he was engaged in hand to hand combat or he was forced to hug his parents (he actually enjoyed these occasional embraces, though he wouldn't admit it even upon threat of death.) The likelihood that a criminal was his soulmate seemed almost laughable. Not to mention it was unavoidable in his line of work.

He was extra cautious around women, as he had no inclinations toward men, if the Fates had decided that he were to have a soulmate it would most decidedly be a female. Of course he had been instantly attracted to the small pathologist the moment he had laid eyes on her. Had he not, he could have stopped himself before riling her up enough to strike him. He had learned that lesson a very long time (and several slaps to the face) ago.

Now he was faced with a whole different problem; what to do about it?

He could do nothing of course. She seemed quite than put off by him and even more upset at discovering that he was her soulmate. But why? Most women were eager to find their _other half_, as they say. He knew that he was right in his deduction that she was actively looking. There was something he that was missing.

He considered all of this as he made his way through the back alleys of London. He was looking for someone, he had news to deliver and it wasn't good.

Finally he found her curled up in a corner of a disused factory. "Haddy," He gently shook the filthy woman. "Haddy wake up. I need to talk to you."

She stirred awake. "Oy, whatcha trying to do, kill an ol' woman?" She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Here." He handed her a sandwich which he fished out of his pocket. She tore into it with abandon. "I have news about Matt. It was him, he's dead. I am sorry." He laid a hand on the woman's arm.

"Hadn't seen 'im for five days, knew he was probably gone. Not surprised, not really." She looked away and paused her eating. "How did he...?"

"O.D."

She just nodded, tears in her eyes.

Sherlock looked her over, "What happened to the coat I gave you?"

"Ah, there was this girl, tiny thing, bout to have a baby. She was so cold Sherlock."

"I'll get you another, don't give this one away, understand?" He stood up to leave.

"Sherlock!" She called out.

"Yes?"

"What's happened?"

"I told you Haddy, he..."

"No, not about Matt. You, you're different. It's your eyes, there's sumfin different bout your eyes."

"It's just the light in here, Haddy. Eat, I'll send you another coat later, keep it this time." Then he turned and walked away.

"Why you limpin'?" She called out.

Sherlock just smiled, Haddy never missed a thing.

* * *

As the cab pulled up to 221B Baker Street Sherlock groaned. Of course _he'd_ be here. Sherlock very nearly told the cabby to keep driving, but he had to get this over with sooner or later. He got out and made his way over to the sleek black government car as the window rolled down.

"Ah, how was your visit to the morgue?" His older brother asked.

"You know exactly how it went as you were watching every minute of it. Why must we always play these childish games Mycroft? Aren't we a bit too old for them by now?" Sherlock turned and walked towards his building. Mycroft got out of his car and followed.

"I was simply giving you a chance to explain it in your own words. You do so love the sound of your own voice." The elder Holmes said having caught up with Sherlock and entering the building.

Sherlock rolled his eyes but remained silent, he wasn't giving Mycroft the pleasure of goading him today.

They walked up the stairs to the second floor flat where Sherlock preceded to ignore his brother and go about his normal routine, which included trading his suit jacket for a dressing gown. Then he fished around in the back of his closet for an old coat, bringing it out into the setting room. Mycroft sat down and patiently waited to be offered tea.

Sherlock sat across from him and proceeded to send a series of text messages, completely ignoring his older brother. Once finished he continued to ignore the man for five full minutes until Mycroft finally gave in.

"Sherlock, you met your soulmate today. Shall we talk about it, perhaps over some tea?" He asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is this where you play the kindly older brother? Giving me advice and guiding me into the next phase of my life." He cocked his head to the side. "I think I'll pass."

Mycroft drew a deep breath, "I don't pretend to be an expert on sentiment, dear brother. However, resistance in this particular set of circumstances is indeed futile."

"Just because you were too weak to withstand Aria's feminine wiles, doesn't mean that I will fall prey to the same fate."

"Watch your tone little man. That's my wife you're talking about. It's good to see you finally using her actual name though."

Sherlock leaned forward in his chair, "You are the embodiment of hypocrisy. My entire life you preached the evils of sentiment. That caring for others will only make us weak, that it could be used against us. Then the moment your flesh made contact with that of your assistant's, you decided you were the exception to that rule. And now, now you expect me to once again forget all those life lessons and throw myself at an angry pathologist. Has getting into the pretty little knickers of that young thing you call a wife really thrown your perspective off this much?"

Mycroft Holmes wasn't a violent man, he had rarely been moved to physical violence and the few time in his life that he had it was usually at the hands of his younger brother. This was one of them. He moved much faster than Sherlock would have thought possible and had one hand around his throat and the other repeatedly slapping the mouthy young man about his head.

"You need to learn to respect my wife!" Mycroft spit as the assault continued.

Sherlock, was so taken aback couldn't even react. His reflexes were almost perfect but he wasn't expecting the attack and suddenly felt as if he just might deserve it. After the fifth blow it was over and Mycroft was standing straight, adjusting his well-appointed suit and setting his hair back in place.

Sherlock sat stock still; absolutely in shock. The last time Mycroft given him a thumping he was eight and Myke was fifteen. Sherlock had burnt several holes in Mycroft's favorite waistcoat in an experiment gone wrong.

The older man, looking only slightly ruffled bent to pick up his umbrella, "Well, I can see that we will accomplish nothing more on this subject today. But understand this; we are not finished with this conversation brother dear. You may think it easy to ignore your destiny; however you will soon find that you are quite wrong this time." He made his way to the flat's door but turned and asked, "Tell me, how is your left foot feeling?"

Sherlock refused to answer.

* * *

Twenty minutes later Remi stopped by and picked up Haddy's new coat. Sherlock spent the rest of the afternoon and evening in his mind palace reviewing every piece of information he had ever obtained on the subject of soulmates.

Of course, objectively there were some advantages to having a domestic partner. He wasn't _that_ socially inept. It might be nice to have a woman in is life other than his house... no landlady and mother. Speaking of keeping house, perhaps Molly would be amiable to doing his laundry; he was quite tired of hearing Mrs. Hudson's objections. Also it would certainly get his mother off of his back; she never really stopped needling him about his stringent rules about not touching (especially the opposite sex.) Then there was the added benefit of intercourse. Being a thirty-one year old virgin wasn't all that it was cracked up to be.

NO! The Work, it was all that mattered. He wasn't going to be like Mycroft and change everything simply because of one touch of another person's flesh. He couldn't let some old-fashioned antiquated belief system change his entire way of life!

_I will simply avoid that blasted hospital and all contact with Molly Hooper, with her big brown eyes, and long brown hair, adorable button nose her obvious intelligence and quick wit and __**why in the bloody hell is **__**my**__** foot on fire?!**_

* * *

_._

_._

_**Big tha****n**_**_ks to_** MrsMCrieff **_especially_** _**_with_** **Haddy... I'm American and I had her sounding like she was from the Deep South, I'm afraid. Ah well, I tried. **_

_**Thanks for reading, let me know what you think! Reviews keep me going!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**GUESTS: Thank you all for your reviews, I wish I could respond. Your reviews mean just as much as everyone else's... just you wait! (mychakk) **_

_**Once again thank you all for the support and I hope you like the update. **_

_**Remember, I own nothing other than my strange sense of humour and my odd 'foot' thing... enjoy!**_

* * *

Molly couldn't get home fast enough. Her speed, of course, was hampered by a painfully burning left foot. She didn't make any of her usual stops, deciding she could order in if she even felt like eating at any point. _Yes, home to my tiny apartment, with my cat, and my science fiction novels... the arrogant ass-hat!_

She rushed inside, quickly deposited her bag, keys and jacket then ran to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. Then she jerked her shoes and socks off. Her left foot was burning like she had stepped on hot coals. "Damn it!" She yelled just as Toby (the cat he had so accurately deduced) wandered in looking for some attention. He quickly turned and beat a hasty retreat. She turned on the cold water and stuck her left foot under the tap. It seemed to help for a moment but then the burn intensified. She dried off her foot and started looking through the bathroom for burn ointment, she found nothing.

Finally she settled for a pack of peas that she found in her freezer, she also happened upon a one litre tub of ice cream and decided that would do for dinner. Sitting on her sofa with the peas on the floor (left foot on the peas,) she dove into the mint chocolate chip with gusto.

_What luck?_ She finally meets her other half and he turns out to be the world's biggest arsehole. Byron the barrister wasn't looking too bad right about now. Why couldn't he just be kind and unassuming like Mike or sweet and awkward like Alex? Before she knew it she had eaten nearly the whole tub of ice cream,_ ah wonderful, now my tummy hurts. _

That prompted an awful decision. She called her mum.

"Oh, Molly dear how was your date with that lovely barrister? Any news you want to tell me?" Her mother answered.

"It was fine mum, but ah, no tingle... so."

"Like I said, sometimes it takes several dates. Give it time."

"Yeah right, don't get your hopes up. Um mum, I have a question. So, I have this friend. And she's met her soulmate..."

"Oh how lovely, what's her name?" Her mum interrupted.

"Ah... Ann-a-stasia... Anastasia, yeah. So, this Anastasia she met her soulmate and she hates him and..."

"Well that's simply not possible." Her mum interrupted once again. "She can't hate her soulmate, the Fates know what's best for us dear. She just needs to give them time to work it out. Let me guess, was the marking painful?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?" Molly asked quite surprised.

"Well that happens sometimes with passion-filled matches, they can start out quite painfully. Also it can take the couple a bit longer to come to terms with the match. When two fiery personalities come together it can be... well let's just say, the Fates seem to work extra hard to bring them together." Her mum ended with a giggle.

Molly sighed, "Mum, what if," She paused to remember the name she had given her mother, "Anastasia doesn't want anything to do with this man or soulmates? Can anything be done?" She knew the answer, but she had to ask.

"What silly nonsense! Of course not! It's their destiny love, she'll come round, just you see. Is her foot burning?"

"It's on fire!" Molly said through gritted teeth.

"Well that won't stop, it will only get worse. Your aunt Sara tried to resist Max. Oh she was so strong willed, only lasted about a week after first contact if I remember. Nearly drove us all batty. But that's Sara for you." More giggling.

Molly was quite finished with her mum's bad news and infuriating giggles. "Alright mum, thanks, I'll tell ah, my friend what I've found out. Love you."

"Bye dear, give Byron another go will you. He might grow on you and your foot."

Her mum was laughing once again as Molly rang off.

The burn was driving Molly crazy until she remembered she had some pain medicine left over from a dental procedure. She hobbled into the bathroom, found them and took them then curled up on her bed with her cat. She hoped she could sleep through the worst of it.

* * *

Sherlock wasn't fairing much better. Luckily he had his mind palace to help him cope. When the pain got to be too much he would delve in and spend time constructing more rooms or reorganizing existing ones.

Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock's trusted landlady found him sleeping on his settee the following morning. His left foot propped up on the arm, with his soulmate's first name prominently displayed for the entire world (or at least for Martha Hudson who brought him his morning tea) to see.

The enigmatic young man had only been living in her flat for five months but Martha had known his mother for years and had heard all the stories. _Sherlock is driven, Sherlock is a __genius__, Sherlock is a pain in my bottom!_ So far he had lived up to every word Violet had ever used in describing her youngest son.

Mrs. Hudson carefully put down the tea tray; she knew she had to tread lightly. She was well aware of Sherlock's aversion to the whole idea of soulmates and all his precautions against them. _Obviously something happened, the Fates have a way of working around even the brightest minds,_ Martha thought.

"Sherlock dear, I have your tea." She cooed.

"Just leave it Mrs. Hudson." He said turning over.

"I can't dear, it'll get cold. Besides we need to talk about your foot."

He sprang up instantly looking around clearly expecting a room full of people.

"Just me love. Now, when did that happen?" She asked.

Sherlock shook himself awake and poured himself a cup of tea. He took a long satisfying drink then rested his head on the back of the settee. "Fine, yesterday if you must know." He took another drink.

"Molly, that's a fine name."

"It's a name Mrs. Hudson. It's just a name." He replied.

"Well, let's hear it. What's she like?"

He huffed, "I've been awake for forty-five seconds, must we do this now?"

"If you'd prefer to tell your mother about Mol..." She started to get up.

"She's a pathologist, she's small, and she's got a surprisingly strong right hook." He said with haste.

"Oh Sherlock, she hit you? Of course she did... how else would you meet your soulmate." Mrs. Hudson shook her head.

"Doesn't matter, after the.._. marking_, she sprinted away as quick as she could. See, done and done! Did you mend the bullet hole in my spare coat? It's not as nice as my favorite but it's always good to have a backup." He got up and limped across the room.

"That's only going to get worse you know."

"Please Mr. Hudson. Spare me, your soulmate turned out to be murderous drug runner." He said, ice pack in hand as he returned sitting down in his chair.

"Oh, you silly child. Mr. Hudson wasn't my soulmate. No, I lost my other half six months after our marking." She got a far off look in her eyes. "We were never married. Planned to be of course, but he drove a cab and wanted to take me somewhere nice for our honeymoon. He was saving up you see." She took a deep breath. "A garbage truck with bad breaks hit him head on." She stood up and straightened her skirt then looked down at Sherlock and suddenly saw a tinge of panic written across his usually stoic face. "It's not really my hip that really troubles me Sherlock, it's my left foot. Not all the time mind you... but..." She cleared her throat, "I'll be back later for that tray." Then she left the flat.

* * *

Molly woke to the sound of her mobile going off. "Hullllo?"

"Oh, thank the Fates! I've been phoning you all morning."

"Mike? W-what time is it?" Molly slurred.

"It's eleven thirty."

"Oh shit!" Molly exclaimed feeling suddenly very awake.

"Don't worry, I already marked you as sick today, but I was worried so I started phoning you before nine. It's not like you not to show up."

"Oh, I can't believe I just didn't show up for work Mike I'm so sorry!"

"No, not a problem. Yesterday was a big day for you. I certainly remember the day I met my Adeline." He chuckled. "Anyway, I'll leave you to it then. Maybe _he_ will be more agreeable next time he comes into the lab now that..."

"No Mike. I'm- we're..." Molly huffed. "Just because I have someone's name on my bloody foot..."

"Molly you're a doctor, you have to understand how this works."

"Yes I'm a doctor thank you very much. And I like to think that I can choose who I spend the rest of my life with not the Fates or a sandworm or whatever voodoo you think I should believe in." She barked.

"A Sandworm?"

"I just finished _Children of Dune _if you must know, it was the first thing that came into my mind. Listen I'll be in tomorrow. Sorry I know you're just trying to help, I-I didn't sleep well."

"Your foots hurting isn't it?"

"It's fine, Mike." Molly rang off feeling instantly guilty for snapping at the man. It wasn't his fault the Fates were cruel and sadistic and clearly had a twisted sense of humour.

It was getting worse actually, so much worse. She needed a plan, she only had two pain pills left.

* * *

_**Yes, if you've read Clothing Malfunctions that is indeed my second Frank Herbert reference. What can I say? I love the Dune series! **_

_**Anyway, thanks for reading. I know this was a bit fillery (sometimes I make up words.) But I needed to set some things up. Big things coming in the next chapter. **_

_**Also, I changed my mind about John... that's all I'm saying... I'm soooo changeable. **_

_**Reviews bring me joy!**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Once again, I am humbled by the response to my story. Thanks for all your favorites, followers and reviews. You people are beautiful... and don't ever forget it! **_

_**Also quick thank you again to my amazing friend and Beta MrsMCrieff... She truly makes me a better writer. **_

_**I own nothing. **_

_**Let's see what the Fates are up to today...**_

* * *

Molly was giddy, well very nearly. If the pain in her foot hadn't gotten so much worse she would definitely be giddy. She was in a cab on her way over to see Sherlock Holmes. She could fix this. Yes, she had figured it out. It had taken the better part of the afternoon and her last two pain pills but she had done it. _Ha! The Fates can't push me around, ouch!_ A sudden sharp burn pulled her out of her celebration.

She could barely walk by the time she paid the cabby and got out (he offered to help her to the door, of course she refused.) She had a moment of doubt just before she rang the bell next to the black lacquered door,_ this is almost too easy_, she thought. _No, no... this will work. This will work and I will have some relief._ So she steadied herself and rang.

A minute or so later a sweet looking older lady answered the door. "Can I help you?" She asked.

"I'm looking for Sherlock Holmes." Molly said.

"Are you a client?"

"No, I'm not. I'm... we met yesterday, I'm..."

The woman beamed and interrupted, "Oh, you must be Molly! Come in, come in! I'm Mrs. Hudson Sherlock's landlady although he treats me like I'm his housemaid."

Molly hobbled into the foyer, Mrs. Hudson noticed. "Oh dear it's bad, isn't it?" She went to the stairs and walked up a couple, then called out for Sherlock.

"I'm fine really, it's not all that bad." Molly protested.

Suddenly Sherlock appeared on the landing. "What? I was in the middle..." He stopped when he saw Molly. "Oh."

"Sherlock, she can barely walk, help her up the stairs." Mrs. Hudson said with a twinkle in her eyes.

Molly took in his appearance. He was wearing fitted (very fitted) trousers, and a dress shirt that seemed at least one (if not two) sizes too small. The buttons were positively straining. He had never taken his massive coat off the day before, she didn't know what she was expecting... but it wasn't this. His feet were of course, bare; as hers would be if she had been home. She suddenly noticed how large they were, _damn! What the hell? Focus Hooper, not the time!_ He was also wearing a dressing gown and it billowed as he ran down the stairs to meet her.

"You're here." He said more breathless than he should have been from the short jog.

"I-I ah... have an idea." She said trying to remember why she had come.

Mrs. Hudson watched hands clutched under her chin, huge smile on her face. Finally she couldn't stand it any longer. "Help her up the stairs Sherlock!"

"Of course, this way." Sherlock put one arm around Molly's lower back and with the other took her small hand in his. "Are you okay?"

Molly exhaled loudly, "Well, it must be the pills I took before I left because it's a bit better now, thank you."

Sherlock smiled.

They continued at a slow pace until they reached the flat's open door. Sherlock rushed ahead and started furiously fussing about, picking up papers and mugs and ... _a crossbow?_

"Sorry, I... well I wasn't expecting you. Um, here," he helped her to the settee, which had been covered with newspapers and an open file with _classified _stamped on it. If he was concerned about her seeing it, he didn't express it. He just shoved everything back inside and tossed it on the coffee table.

He sat next to her and waited for her to speak, she suddenly seemed nervous. Human interaction wasn't Sherlock's strong suit but he thought he'd give it a go... "You found me then." _Obviously._.. he thought, _now I sound like an idiot._

"Ah yes. Your website. It's not a difficult name to Google."

"Right."

"Consulting detective?" She asked.

"Yes. The only one in the world." He preened.

"So you made it up?"

He huffed, "Invented, is more like it."

"What is it you do, exactly? Besides test 137 different types of tobacco ash, that is."

"One hundred and forty-five as of today, and there will be more. It's an ongoing study." He added almost sheepishly. "Mostly I assist my brother when his inept agents cannot handle a situation, which is far too often. However I've made a contact at New Scotland Yard and hope start consulting with the Met very soon."

"The police don't consult with amateurs." She responded with a raised eyebrow.

"Correct." He said with cocky grin.

Neither spoke for almost a moment, they were just staring waiting for the other to make the first move.

"Yoo Hoo!" Their staring contest was broken with Mrs. Hudson and her tea tray. "Some nice tea, and Sherlock's favorite biscuits. Maybe that will make you feel better dear." She set the tray down on top of the pile of papers as if they weren't at all important.

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock smiled at the older woman.

She turned to leave. "I'll be downstairs if you two need anything." She said on her way out the door.

Sherlock started pouring the tea, "She wonders why I consider her my housekeeper..." He mumbled almost to himself. He looked up, "How do you take it?"

"You can't _deduce_ that?"

Sherlock rubbed his forehead, "Is there no way we can start over?" He asked.

"White, no sugar. And there's no point. I have an idea as to how to deal with our problem if you'd like to hear it." She said.

Sherlock handed her the tea, "Alright, let's have it."

"I don't like you. You clearly don't like me. But the pain is getting worse, so why don't we just get married? _The Fates_," She rolled her eyes, "Will be satisfied and we can go about our normal lives... separately, mind you." She took a drink of her tea.

His instinct of course was to laugh at the woman and tell her how ridiculous she was being. Obviously the Fates couldn't be fooled. If so, he would have come up with a solution, and it would have been better than,_ let's get married_. But he held back, he wasn't exactly sure why... well he had an idea.

"Molly, if that were enough..."

"Mr. Holmes I'm certain it will work."

"As I said before call me Sherlock."

"I'm not calling you that ridiculous name, sounds just as made up as '_consulting detective._'" She put up air quotes around his job title.

She was really trying his patience now. He took a deep cleansing breath. Insulting her now would only make things worse, besides he was well aware of the fact that she was baiting him. "It's not made up, it's a family name. Now, back to your suggestion. That won't work and you know it won't"

"Why not?"

"Molly, I'm sure you were just as educated about soulmates and the Fates as I, and you must know that they won't be appeased by such treachery."

"Yes, of course I've been force feed that one day I'd touch the flesh of the person I'd spend the rest of my life with. I've heard it all. Then I met you, and you're... well... you." She was breathing hard, straining through the searing pain in her foot.

"Molly, please calm down."

"Why should I? I'm being manipulated into a life I didn't ask for. I didn't want this. I just want it to stop hurting." She started to get up and immediately stumbled, Sherlock shot up and caught her before she fell. She looked at him closely, "Why aren't you in pain?"

"I am, of course." He said still holding her in an inadvertent embrace.

"Not nearly as much as me. You're completely composed. I haven't seen you wince at all. When we came up the stairs you... you weren't limping."

He started to speak but paused. The pain had begun to subside earlier in the day when he started to consider Molly as his soulmate. He had really taken the time to put her in his life, to see if she would fit. She did, of course... perfectly. He wasn't even in his mind palace, he was simply thinking, contemplating. He thought about getting to know Molly, her likes, her dislikes. She is a scientist; of course the Fates would pair him with the like. It only made sense. She had fire, she only put up with his deductions for about two minutes before letting him have it, _yes fire._.. Not to mention she was simply beautiful, not that Sherlock had ever given much thought to society's definition of beauty. However Molly, there was something elfin and ethereal about her, _yes lovely_... Then there was the sudden and overwhelming need to protect her. When Mrs. Hudson finished her story, Sherlock pictured Molly's tiny body, broken and bleeding... he felt something he frankly hadn't experienced since he was a child... fear... no, terror or possibly worse? It was hard to explain. That's when the pain, very gradually started to subside. The moment he saw her standing in the foyer of 221B it was all but gone.

He looked down at her in his arms, he wasn't sure if she realised he was still holding her, "Yes, it's... it's getting better for me."

Molly jerked away. "How? Tell me! Please!"

Sherlock smoothed down his dressing gown, "As I understand it- as it's been explained to me since childhood, it's different for everyone. What is considered the key for me may not..."

"What stopped it Sherlock?" She yelled. "Please just tell me, I'm in pain!"

"You! I believe it was... you." He snapped back much harsher than he meant to. "Sorry, I- I... Molly, I think once I started to give into the possibility of..."

"No!" She held up a hand and started to cry. "No, the Fates have screwed with me enough. You and I are not... we don't..." She was slowly backing away. "I hate _Them_ for this, and for..." She stumbled again trying to walk backwards. This time she was too far away from Sherlock for him to catch her, and she went down. Her bum hit the floor before she could even brace herself with her hands. "Damnit!" She cried.

Sherlock rushed to her side, "Molly, why are you making this so hard on yourself?" He gently put his arm around her back cradling her to his side. He had no idea what he was doing, he was literally just mimicking what his mother would do for him as a child. "Can't you see that _They_ are pushing us towards each other?"

_Sniffle_, "I believed that once," _Sniffle_, "Never again." She said wiping her eyes, and even though she said it, she didn't try to back out of his arms. "It hurts too much when it all goes wrong!" She said then she grabbed her foot and screamed as it blazed in pain.

"Worse than this?!" Sherlock took her foot and ripped off her shoe and sock. He thought for a moment. He couldn't stand it anymore, her pain was killing him. Even though his had subsided, this was somehow worse. She was so distracted that she didn't notice him maneuvering himself and lowering his head to her foot. He looked up, her eyes were tightly clenched in pain. He paused once more before making his decision. Then he did it. He kissed his name.

He heard her gasp above him, but kept his eyes closed and his lips pressed firmly to the sole of Molly's left foot. She hadn't pulled away, but whether it was because it had helped or because she was preparing to kick him in the face, he didn't know. He breathed through his nose and continued the gentle kiss, not daring to look, waiting for any indication that it had worked. Finally Molly spoke.

"What the hell...?"

* * *

_**Oh no! Good... Bad? How is she going to react? **_

_**Remember how I said I didn't have a 'weird foot thing?' Oops! Perhaps I do... Lol! **_

_**Alright, give it to me! What do you think?**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Well... seems I'm not the only one with a foot thing... **_

_**Thanks again for the support. My amazing Beta MrsMCrieff helped me get this ready even though she was busy, bless her. **_

_**I own nothing... enjoy.**_

* * *

Slowly Sherlock opened his eyes. He saw Molly staring down at him. _I didn't think her eyes could actually get bigger,_ he thought. _Oh, she is __definitely__ going to kick me! _He started to pull his lips away when Molly suddenly drew a breath.

"Don't s-stop." She said. "It – it worked." _Yes, yes, yes, yes that feels sooooo good!_

Without hesitation Sherlock returned his mouth to Molly's foot. Never, not ever in his life would Sherlock Holmes have thought he would have found himself on the floor of his flat, with his lips on the foot of a woman that he barely knew. But, that's fate for you...

She knew she was giving in, but she simply didn't care. His plump (yes she had noticed) lips pressed against bottom of her foot, was causing not only a sudden rush of relief, but something else entirely but she was far too caught up in the sensation to think about it.

Molly sighed lustfully, and relaxed her whole body onto the floor. He didn't think she did it on purpose, no, it was just the shear relief from pain, however the sound she emitted did something to Sherlock, something that gave him a thousand ideas all at once.

Sherlock removed his lips and he heard Molly whine, but she didn't move. He replaced them with his hands though. He started making long gentle sweeping strokes with his thumbs.

"Ahhhhhh!" The sound came out of her mouth before she could stop herself, "Oh by the Fates that feels good!" She was losing herself in long forgotten sensations.

He thought it might be time to rub harder. He had done the same with his own foot after the pain had started to go away, so he knew exactly what to do. He pressed down with his thumbs, giving extra pressure on her arch, that's when heard a muffled curse and he looked up to see her face buried in the crook of her arm. Her other hand had found a bit of exposed skin between her tee-shirt and jeans, and she was stroking it. _Oh good, it's not just me then, _he thought as his already tight trousers became much tighter and much more uncomfortable.

But where to go from here? He knew exactly where he wanted to go. He wanted to bury himself in his soulmate on his sitting room floor. However, she had made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him, although, her current condition would say otherwise. So he continued to massage her foot. Then he slipped his hands into her the leg of her jeans, up her calf, just testing the waters. More moans... lots of moans actually. _Okay, I'm not even touching the marking anymore... she has to know... oh sod it..._

He levered himself over her and moving her arm off of her face. He carefully kept his obvious erection from touching her, bracing himself with his arms. "Molly," she opened her eyes.

"Sherlock, it stopped... you made it stop." She said dreamily.

"May I kiss you?" He asked.

She smiled, and he realised it was the first time he had ever seen her do that. She was even lovelier when she smiled. "You already did." She giggled.

As he lowered himself he hoped that the Fates chose to stay with him, because he had no idea what he was doing. Having kept the fairer sex at arm's length, kissing was obviously not his area of expertise, but he had asked so now he had to pay up so to speak. He was still hovering a few inches above her, examining her lips, thinking about the best angle when he felt Molly's fingers gently running through his hair. The sensation was extraordinary. He heard a moan, then realised it had come from him, he also realised he had closed his eyes.

"You said something about a kiss." Molly giggled causing Sherlock to open his eyes.

"Right, of course... well, the thing is... I've never actually done this before." He finally managed to spit out the statement.

Molly furrowed her brows, and tilted her head. "You've never what?"

"I've.. never..." He cleared his throat, "Kissed... well... anyone."

"Oh," Her eyes wondered around for a moment, "May I ask why?"

"Ah," He considered moving so they could be in a more conventional position for this conversation, but Molly still had her hands in his hair and it still felt wonderful, so he decided to stay put. "I have avoided physical contact most of my life in an effort to forgo finding my soulmate." He swallowed, "I'm not very good at social interaction, but I imagine that's not the sort of thing a woman wants to hear just before being kissed." He smiled quite awkwardly.

Molly thought for a moment. _Interesting.._. it seems the Fates had pushed together two people who least wanted to find their_ other halves._ It probably should have offended her; any other woman most likely would have rolled him off, got up and left. But Molly understood... completely. They had both been running from their destiny only to end up on the floor of this cluttered flat, and frankly she couldn't think of any other place she'd rather be at the moment.

She smiled. "It's fine Sherlock. If anyone understands it's me. We both have our reasons for fighting against this, but it seems we lost. Right now I'm more interested in giving you an impressive first kiss." And with that she pulled his head down the rest of the way until their lips met. Virgin or not the man was a fast learner. She tried to keep it slow and sweet but Sherlock seemed to have something else in mind. His lips were firm yet soft as they caressed hers. It was wonderful.

At the first touch of Molly's lips to his, Sherlock's mind started gathering data. Her lips were soft and smooth, they felt somehow bigger than they looked and she tasted of coconut. He slid his lips across hers mirroring her actions as best as he could, still nervous he would disappoint her, but he wanted more.

He felt her mouth open, so he opened his. Then she sucked his lower lip into her mouth and it all clicked... _Oh, yes_... Molly was nibbling on his lip when he realised he had lowered himself so he was straddling her and had more use of his hands.

_Oh, he's got it now,_ Molly thought as Sherlock's tongue snaked into her mouth,_ Fates above, I've missed this! _One of Sherlock's hands was buried in her hair and the other had found its way under her shirt and was stroking her ribs just under her bra.

Sherlock finally pulled back and looked at his soulmate, her pupils blown out, lips red and moist and she was breathing hard. He assumed he looked much the same. "Molly, I... may I continue?" He didn't know exactly what he was asking permission to do, but he knew he should ask.

Well, if that wasn't the sweetest thing she had ever heard in her entire life... This gorgeous man, (_how had I not noticed before how beautiful he is..._) lying on top of her, asking if he could... what was he asking exactly? _Oh, who cares?_ "Of course Sherlock, whatever you like." She smiled, biting her lip.

"Molly, that lip biting is..." He never finished his thought because he dove back in for another scorching kiss, this time taking her lip between his teeth and biting down almost to the point of pain causing Molly to buck up into his erection. When she did he jerked his hips away and looked at her in shock.

"Sorry, that was your fault." She giggled. "Too much?"

"Um, I-I don't know." He swallowed. "I can't say I wouldn't like... of course I want to. Do you?"

Molly took a deep breath and decided it was time to get off the floor. She patted Sherlock's shoulder; he seemed to get the message and hopped up taking her hand as he helped her stand. They sat down on the settee. "I, ah, have only been with one man." She straightened her tee-shirt and smoothed down her hair. "I fell in love at university, thought he'd be my soulmate and so we had sex. We were dating when he found his actual soulmate, that's when I swore off this whole thing. I've been dating a bit here and there this last year to appease my friends and family. So, the thing is, just because you're a virgin, I mean... I'm not exactly," She looked around the room for a moment, "Experienced or anything."

During her explanation Sherlock listened, his first thought was that that explained his faulty deduction, secondly, he was relieved. _Oh, thank the Fates..._

"You're relieved." Molly said.

Sherlock smiled, _she deduced me._ It may have an obvious deduction, but it just proved once again how perfectly matched they really were. "Well, most people find it odd that I don't engage in physical contact and mating rituals. I-I am somewhat relieved that we can possibly take this at our own pace. Get to know each other. Expectations can be daunting Molly. I don't like not being prepared." He felt much better, both mentally and um... physically.

"Are you saying that you'd like to wait?" Molly asked, a coy smile playing on her lips.

Sherlock huffed, that smile suddenly making him regret his decision. "I'm saying I'd like to take you to my bedroom and have you right now, however having just had my first kiss in my thirty-one years of existence, it might be best. I-" He looked down at his hands, "I don't want to disappoint you."

Molly smiled and took his hands in hers. He looked up. "You won't disappoint me Sherlock, but I think we should maybe wait, just a bit. Besides, the Fates pushed us together, it seems like you're stuck with me now and we have all the time in the world."

Sherlock let out a single chuckle, "Molly Hooper, I think that you will find_ you_ are the one that is stuck with me." He leaned back pulling her down to rest her head on his shoulder, kissing her temple. She rubbed her left foot against his, and he felt another small jolt of energy through his body. Molly giggled. "Let's not wait too long though." He said holding her tightly.

* * *

_**I almost took this to smutsville... but it just didn't feel right. One more chapter to go. Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think, your reviews/comments mean the world to me. Hugs!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**So, here's the last chapter. I hope you all enjoy it, I've had a blast. **_

_**One last bit of thanks to my Beta, MrsMCrieff without whom this would sound like some kind of language only twins understand (thank you Saturday Night Live.) **_

_**I still own nothing. **_

* * *

_The Fates were so very proud of Sherlock Holmes. He had actually surpassed their expectations by far. They had thought it would much harder to push him toward the feisty young doctor and even harder to change her __stubborn__ mind. So__,__ satisfied with the outcome of this particular pairing, they decided not only to send the detective his soulmate but push a best friend into his path as well, (let's face it, he wasn't going to go out and find one on his own.)_

* * *

Molly moved into 221B two months after that fateful meeting at Barts. Things were going well. Sherlock was working with a DI from the Yard and making quite a name for himself. Molly was learning to deal with his moods and odd hours.

Mrs. Hudson gave them an extra room on the third floor for Molly to use as a study so she could have a space all to herself. She needed to be able to work on her journal articles, which she was hoping to start publishing, or to simply get away when Sherlock was in a particularly bad mood. Also, Molly hadn't lived with anyone since uni and frankly it could be a bit overwhelming at times.

They had, of course, consummated their relationship. Oh, by the Fates... Molly understood what Sherlock meant about being prepared. He must have done some research or something because it was much better than she had expected. He was clearly nervous but much more at ease than he had been that day on the floor. When he suggested waiting Molly assumed it would be a while before he was comfortable enough to have sex. He surprised her by dragging her into his bedroom, when she stopped by, just two weeks after their first kiss.

Things weren't perfect, far from it. Molly quickly realised that Sherlock wasn't exactly a full grown man quite yet. More of a genius, man child, who had clearly been given far too much leeway his entire life. She chose her battles though, and she chose them wisely.

The first time he handed her his dirty laundry for instance, she turned the basket upside-down on his pretty head. But when he complemented her on her cooking and kissed her behind her ear, she knew she was being slightly manipulated and she simply didn't care. She like cooking and she loved his kisses so she let him think he was getting his way because of it.

They were learning and growing, she felt comfortable and actually quite hopeful.

Today was a rare day off for both of them, as Sherlock wasn't caught up in a case for once. She was buzzing around the kitchen and Sherlock was updating his website at the kitchen table just to be closer to her. She handed him a fresh cup of coffee and he looked up at her catching her attention for the first time in an hour.

"Hey," He grabbed her hand tugging her toward him. "This is boring and you are not." He pulled her harder and managed to get her onto his lap.

"I _was_ cleaning."

"And now you're sitting on my lap." He kissed her neck and worked a hand underneath her tee-shirt.

Molly giggled as she felt him getting excited, "We just had sex three hours ago, aren't you afraid we are going to overdo it?"

"Nope." He said then captured her lips.

She pushed him away, "You're like a horny teenager."

"I have years of abstinence to make up for and so do you." He said as he started to move his hands up to unfasten her bra. Just then there was a knock on the flat door, followed my Mrs. Hudson's signature Yoo-Hoo.

Sherlock growled. "Ignore her."

Molly jumped up, "I will not! Pull yourself together before you greet your landlady with, well that." She pointed to his lap.

Sherlock huffed and went to the bathroom. Molly answered the door.

Mrs. Hudson walked in with a blond man in tow. "Hello dear, is Sherlock in?"

"Yes, he'll be right out. Just in the bathroom." Molly looked expectantly at the man. "Who's this then?"

"Oh, this is Dr. John Watson. I was just coming back from Mrs. Turners' and he was getting ready to ring the bell. Looking for Sherlock and you actually. He has a case, it's... well just wait until you hear." She giggled.

Dr. Watson smiled uncomfortably.

"Is Sherlock in the shower or something? Taking an awfully long time."

"Um, let me go check on him. I'll only be a moment." Molly turned toward the hallway to see Sherlock coming out looking a bit more refreshed. "You have a client. Feeling better?"

He nodded and walked into the sitting room. "Sherlock Holmes." He said extending his hand.

"Dr. John Watson." He said as he shook Sherlock's hand stiffly.

Sherlock took in the man's appearance. "Please take a seat."

Mrs. Hudson spoke up, "Well I'll leave you to it then, nice to meet you Doctor."

"Thank you for your help Mrs. Hudson." He smiled.

Sherlock sat down across from the man, "So, you're looking for your soulmate."

"Y-yes. How did you know?" He asked looking from Molly to Sherlock.

"It wasn't the limp, no that's nothing to do with your marking. I'd say that is from a job you recently left. And it's also the _reason_ you left. You're obviously single and a quite uncomfortable, also you keep glancing down at your left foot. You're not the first person to come to me to find their soulmate Dr. Watson."

"That's amazing." The man said in awe. "Please call me John."

Molly huffed, "You heard what Mrs. Hudson said didn't you?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, "Oh Sherlock, that's cheating." She rolled her eyes.

"How's that cheating? That's gathering information, not cheating." He turned back to the doctor. "Now, how did it happen? And how did you find me? My website I presume." He give Molly a cocky smile.

"Well, no. Actually I was referred by a mutual friend, Mike Stamford."

"Oh, Mike's my boss." Molly said.

"He mentioned that." John smiled, "About a week ago I was walking down the street, a couple of blocks from Barts. This woman, this blond woman had dropped her bag everything falling out of it. I helped her gather some of the items. As I handed her a USB drive that I picked up, our hands touched. She thanked me, put everything back into her bag and off she went. The next day, there it was." He pointed to his left foot.

"Are you certain it was her? Haven't you touched anyone else? You are a physician, or are you a different type of doctor?" Molly asked.

"He's not working at the moment Molly." Sherlock said.

"No, I'm not. How do you keep doing that? Did Mike call you?"

"I'm sorry. No, he didn't, Sherlock just does this." She said as she waved her hand and made a face. "Sherlock..."

"No, it's fine. It's quite remarkable actually." John said.

Molly laughed.

"I'm sorry did I say something funny?" John asked.

"No, no it just quite different than the reaction I had the first time he did that to me." She smiled and cut her eyes to Sherlock who looking very bored.

"What did you do?"

"Oh, I slapped him."

John looked at Sherlock who was looking straight ahead. Molly was barely containing her giggles and when Sherlock finally started to chuckle the three of them erupted in laughter.

They finally got a hold of themselves John and continued, "Anyway, I went to Barts today to see if Mike might by chance know her since we were so close by when it happened. I had hoped that perhaps she worked there. It was a long shot. He didn't know her of course, but he suggested I speak with you two."

"May we see it? The marking." Sherlock asked.

Watson removed his shoe and sock. Molly stood up, "Glove Sherlock."

Sherlock produced a couple of latex gloves from the pocket of his dressing gown, causing Dr. Watson to frown. Molly walked over, bent down and inspected John's foot. "Why is it...?"

"Backwards?" John finished. "I researched that. Most everything I found suggests that it's an alias."

"You're right. That won't be the name she was given at birth, but the name she goes by now." Sherlock said leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "Does that bother you John?"

John put his sock and shoe back on. "No, it doesn't. We all have a past Mr. Holmes. We've all done things. I have no idea why Mary had to change her name, but I won't judge her for it."

"What if her past is dangerous?" He asked with an appraising eye.

"What if _my_ past is dangerous?" John came back quickly. "Can you help me Mr. Holmes?"

"It's Sherlock, and can you give me just a moment?" He stood up and motioned for Molly to follow him into the bedroom. He started removing his dressing gown and looking for a suit jacket. "I'm going to take him down to New Scotland Yard and see if we can get a sketch artist to help us out. Lestrade owes me a favour or two."

Molly smiled. "You like him."

"What?"

"You like him. You made a friend." She beamed.

"Molly." He warned.

"It's okay to make a friend Sherlock. It's okay to like people, you don't have to be defensive." She walked over to him and played with the buttons on his shirt. "I'm cooking tonight you know."

He grinned, "Can you make those peas with the little onions?" Then he kissed her jaw. "I love those."

"Yes, I'll make you peas. Why don't you invite Dr. Watson for dinner. You two might be hungry after all your investigating."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I have a mother already Molly, and she was quite unsuccessful in getting me to make friends." He kissed the tip of her nose then her lips. "I'll text if we'll be late."

The adorable man didn't even realise what he had said. Molly giggled as they walked out of the room.

"Okay, let's head down to the Yard and see if they can help."

The doctor stood up. "Oh, um okay."

"We need a sketch artist." Sherlock said.

"Ah, I see." They were at the door, John turned to Molly. "It was nice to meet you."

"You too." She smiled.

As the pair headed down the stairs she heard her soulmate talking, and even though he was trying to be casual about it, it tickled her to no end. "Molly's making dinner tonight. She said there'd be plenty if you want to eat with us, she does this thing with peas..."

"Oh, I guess. Um... I don't see why not."

"So tell me, Afghanistan or Iraq?" Was the last thing she heard. She laughed and thought that maybe the Fates weren't quite finished with them just yet.

* * *

_**There you go! Thank you all for reading, following, reviewing, favoriting, commenting, giving me kudos and sending the love! That was so very much fun. **_

_**Your final thoughts would make bring me joy. **_


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